I glance up at the clock on the wall above the door that leads into the office. Fuck, it’s already half-past two. My eyes scan the room, finding Ash’s. They look about as overheated and exhausted as I feel. “Let’s send Briggs to get some lunch. I’m starving.”
“Yes, let’s,” they agree.
Arching my brow, I suggest, “Tacos?”
A wide grin splits on their face. “Fuck yeah. From the truck parked on 5thand Kirk?”
“My thoughts exactly.”
This place has some of the best street tacos I’ve ever tasted in my life. It’s like an orgasm in your mouth with every bite. Ash and I make a list for Briggs for what we want, and send him on his way, while we head into the cool, air-conditioned office to take a quick break and down some water. It’s the first break any of us have taken all day.
Reaching into the front pocket of my jeans, I grab my phone, deciding to take a few moments to sift through my notifications. A smile tugs on my lips when I see a text from Segan. I sent him a message this morning when I first got here, like I’ve been doing every morning since the night we had that FaceTime sex… if that’s even what you’d call it.
Segan: Another full day at the studio *eye roll emoji* Hope you have a good day too.
It’s been a few days since that call, but it’s all I can think about. He promised when we got off the phone that night he wouldn’t run away, and in his defense, he hasn’t, per se. But we also haven’t made any attempts to see each other, and it seems like we only talk if I text him first. It’s frustrating, but in the same breath, I get it.
For one, we’re both extremely busy. Me with the shop, and everything that comes with taking over a new business, and him with recording his new album. I won’t even pretend to know what has to go into making that happen, but I know it isn’t easy. And for two, our history. I’m not going to sit here and pretend like our history is easy to move past. It’s not. I hurt him, and I understand that’ll be hard to make up for.
Hell, Segan may never fully forgive me, but I sure as fuck hope he does. I’ve known for years that he was special, and that he meant a lot to me. It’s the whole reason I left. Like I told him, I knew if I’d stayed, something would’ve happened between us. It was only a matter of time. And while back then, given the circumstances, it felt wrong; it doesn’t now. There’s a reason we wound up in the same place again, after all the time that’s gone by. I’m not saying I believe in fate, but this feels like as close to meant to be as we’re ever going to get.
I just hope I can make him see that.
Wanting to see him tonight, I thumb out a response to him while I half listen to Ash tell me about someone they went on a date with last night.
Me: First break I’ve taken all day. About to have some street tacos before I gotta get back to work. What time are you done at the studio tonight?
It doesn’t take but a minute or so for the text bubbles to pop up, letting me know Segan is responding.
Segan: We have a hard stop at 6.
Me: I’m going to bring dinner to your house at 7.
Segan: Um… you are?
Me: Yeah. I want to see you, and I know you gotta eat. I’ll even bring some for your brute of a bodyguard.
A few minutes pass, and he doesn’t respond. Maybe he won’t. Maybe he hates the idea of me coming over. Nerves swim in my gut as my screen goes black.
“What’s got you looking like that?”
Lifting my gaze, it lands on Ash. “Segan,” I admit.
After FaceTiming with him the other night, I needed to talk to someone. Get all this off my chest. Not all of it, of course. I left out major details, like Segan’s diagnosis and the super intimate admissions. But getting it off my chest felt good, and Ash is a great listener—judgement free, which I appreciate more than they’ll probably ever know.
“Anything new going on with you two?” they ask.
“Not really.” Blowing out a breath, I drag a hand down my face. “We’ve texted almost every day, but it’s surface-level shit. I told him I wanted to bring him dinner tonight, but he hasn’t responded yet.”
“I still can’t believe you’re practically datingtheSegan Bradley.” Ash breathes out a laugh.
“I’mnotdating him.”
“Oh, shut up. You know what I mean.”
“Enough about me,” I mutter. “You going out again with the guy from last night, you think?”
Shaking their head, they say, “Probably not.”
